Yada Yada Yada..I found him naked in the alley
My friend Todd is having a midlife crisis of sorts.
Which I fully support.
It's just that I draw the line at hosing the vomit off your naked ass, man.
Like whoa.
Where should I begin?
The Southmore house, a local hippie commune of sorts, has Naked night on the 5th Tuesday of the month.
I could go on and on about naked night, in general, and how there is a difference between bad naked and good naked.
And how Naked Tuesday is a prime example of BAD naked.
Oh my god, it's so bad.
Call me a prude or a tightass or whatever, there are somethings I just don't want to see.
Like a 40 year old fat man's junk.
But I digress.
So Sean and out friend Todd, a yoga istructor, go off to cavort nude like pagans, while I stayed home to watch Nick and Jessica. (At least someone's got their priorities straight).
Everything is just dandy, so I decide to call Sean and try to discern if he is ogling hot naked hippie chicks. He answers the phone and tells me that Todd's had a bit too much whisky, and that he's passed out naked in some whacked out yoga position.
At this point I'm not too concerned, because to be honest, this is rather typical behaviour from Todd lately.
I become concerned 2 hours later, when I drive to Southmore to pick Sean up, and we find Todd passed out in the alley naked, and in a pool of his own vomit.
With a sticker on his ass.
We try to rouse him to no avail, when I get the bright idea to turn the hose on him!
I imagined he might have an extreme reaction, but even I was surprised when he started performing complex standing yoga positions.
Naked, drunk yoga?
Bad naked.
We try to find his clothes, but he has no idea where they are, so I march his naked, wet ass out to the back of my truck and toss him in.
For some reason, Sean has assumed the role as drill seargeant at this point.
Sean: Stay with me, motherfucker! Don't pass out man, you fucking cunt. Sit your ass up, man.
Todd: *Wildly screaming* FUCKING CUNT...HAHAHA..FUCKING CUNT!
So there they are..
Screaming at the top of their lungs.
Call me crazy, but I was trying to avoid attention at this point.
I was driving a naked man through downtown Houston, but whatevah...I'm square.
We get home.
We give Todd a bubble bath.
We put him to bed.
And that was my Tuesday night.
Which I fully support.
It's just that I draw the line at hosing the vomit off your naked ass, man.
Like whoa.
Where should I begin?
The Southmore house, a local hippie commune of sorts, has Naked night on the 5th Tuesday of the month.
I could go on and on about naked night, in general, and how there is a difference between bad naked and good naked.
And how Naked Tuesday is a prime example of BAD naked.
Oh my god, it's so bad.
Call me a prude or a tightass or whatever, there are somethings I just don't want to see.
Like a 40 year old fat man's junk.
But I digress.
So Sean and out friend Todd, a yoga istructor, go off to cavort nude like pagans, while I stayed home to watch Nick and Jessica. (At least someone's got their priorities straight).
Everything is just dandy, so I decide to call Sean and try to discern if he is ogling hot naked hippie chicks. He answers the phone and tells me that Todd's had a bit too much whisky, and that he's passed out naked in some whacked out yoga position.
At this point I'm not too concerned, because to be honest, this is rather typical behaviour from Todd lately.
I become concerned 2 hours later, when I drive to Southmore to pick Sean up, and we find Todd passed out in the alley naked, and in a pool of his own vomit.
With a sticker on his ass.
We try to rouse him to no avail, when I get the bright idea to turn the hose on him!
I imagined he might have an extreme reaction, but even I was surprised when he started performing complex standing yoga positions.
Naked, drunk yoga?
Bad naked.
We try to find his clothes, but he has no idea where they are, so I march his naked, wet ass out to the back of my truck and toss him in.
For some reason, Sean has assumed the role as drill seargeant at this point.
Sean: Stay with me, motherfucker! Don't pass out man, you fucking cunt. Sit your ass up, man.
Todd: *Wildly screaming* FUCKING CUNT...HAHAHA..FUCKING CUNT!
So there they are..
Screaming at the top of their lungs.
Call me crazy, but I was trying to avoid attention at this point.
I was driving a naked man through downtown Houston, but whatevah...I'm square.
We get home.
We give Todd a bubble bath.
We put him to bed.
And that was my Tuesday night.